Do It With A Flair
by Moonstar-75
Summary: Nope. No summary this time. I'm no good at them anyway, so you'll just have to trust me and read it! I wil tell ya this though...it's got Randy Orton and Molly Holly
1. Default Chapter

Title: Do it with a Flair

Author: Brandy

Email: For now, R but eventually it'll be NC-17

Spoilers: None

Summary: Nope. No summary this time. I'm no good at them anyway, so you'll just have to trust me and read it!

Characters: Various WWE superstars including, Ric Flair, Molly Holly and Randy Orton

Disclaimer: You people know the drill. I don't own, so don't sue, yadda, yadda, yadda.

Dedication: This story is written to feed the crazy appetite of my muses AND for Rachel, who is now the self-proclaimed "Mrs. Randy Orton" blows kisses For you toots! ;)

This is NOT the way I had expected things to happen.

Granted, being the daughter of a living legend, one should always expect the unexpected. But after almost 25 years of relative calmness I should've known that the proverbial shit was about to hit the fan. Especially after I informed my father that I wanted to become a professional wrestler.

But, starting a story in the middle has a tendancy to confuse people, so it's best that I start at the beginning. I was born just outside of Winston-Salem, North Carolina. My parents were married a grand total of 11 months when they divorced, shortly before my first birthday. My mom was an alcoholic although I must say, she hid it well. Not even the seemingly neverending stream of boyfriends she brought to the house knew. I never said anything about it because I was too busy being the apple of my father's eye: his first child, his baby girl. I can remember that last weekend I spent with my mother. He had come to pick me up, and as soon as he opened the door to see my mom passed out drunk on the couch while a three year old was reaching for the bottle dangling from her fingers, he filed for custody of me. Naturally he won. I didn't have any contact with my mother after that. She never tried to contact me and I never tried to contact her. My dad was all I needed. As far as I know, mom's still in North Carolina, living the drunk life.

I traveled with dad all the time after that. I met all the big superstars: Andre the Giant, the Iron Sheik, Hulk Hogan, Randy Savage, the Ultimate Warrior, Ricky "The Dragon" Steamboat...but of course, my favorite was "The Nature Boy, Ric Flair"...my dad. I was treated like a queen backstage, spoiled beyond belief. I had every wrestler, every member of the lighting crew, all the wardrobe people, the makeup people, the men AND the women, wrapped around my little finger. Since dad and I were with them 297 days of the year, all of the wrestlers became my surrogate family, along with the McMahon's. Hell, I probably spent more time at Stephanie and Shane's house than THEY did! Vince was just like a second dad to me and Linda was the perfect mother figure.

But as I grew up, dad decided that it was time I had a "stable" home and sent me to stay permanantly during the school year, with my grandparents. They lived in a tiny little town in Tennessee called Manchester and from day one I was the epitome of the term "bad seed". I threw fits, fought in school, cursed at my teachers, broke things, refused to do school work...just about every kind of law that my grandparents tried to lay down, I'd break. By the end of the first year, my temper had calmed considerably and I wasn't acting out anymore. That didn't change the fact that my grandparents saw me as something of a burden. They constantly told me, a seven year old, that they hadn't wanted to have my mother in the first place, much less have to raise her kid. This continued for 3 years, until my eleventh birthday. My father came to pick me up that weekend, and walked in on a shouting match between me and my grandma. She was calling me every name in the book, like she'd been doing the whole time I stayed with them. She didn't see my father walk into the room or she never would've done what she did next. Without blinking an eye, that batty old woman backhanded me. One of the many rings she liked to wear on her skinny old fingers, caught me directly below my right eye. Seeing the blood on my face made her laugh and my father stormed in slamming her against the wall.

"If you EVER touch my child again, I will personally see to it that you spend the rest of your life in the state pen." Dad then ordered me up to my room to pack all my stuff. As I was throwing all my things into a suitcase, I could hear yelling downstairs.When I was finished I calmly walked down the stairs and out the front door without a backward glance. I knew then that somehow my life was about to change.

And I was right. After that altercation I went back on the road with dad, and had tutors to teach me my lessons. Neither one of us mentioned what had happened at my grandparents house, other than for him to ask me if I was hurt anywhere else and if that was the first time she'd ever hit me. I told him it was the first time that had ever happened, but that they had called me all sorts of names and called me worthless. My father pulled me to him for a big hug, his familiar smell engulfing my senses. "You never have to see them ever again, baby." He told the truth: I never saw them again. I learned five years ago, that they had both passed, within two weeks of each other, but my father never said a word about it to me. Instead, I'd overheard him telling Vince, asking if I could stay at their house during the roster's break, while he went back to clear up some loose ends. Despite what they had done to me, they were still my family and I grieved their passings, unlike dad, who to this day still hasn't said a word about them to me. I couldn't really blame him for not telling me they were gone. It was almost an unspoken agreement between the two of us that we NEVER talked about them, REGARDLESS of what may happen. At any rate, I spent the next six years on the road with him, traveling from arena to arena doing one show after the other. By the time I was seventeen I had already made my way through high school level courses and had technically graduated. I was really looking forward to starting college, despite my father begging me to take some time off, that I was too young for that life yet.

I met Randy Orton for the first time that year. I had seen him around of course, trailing after his father "Cowboy" Bob Orton. He was a couple of years younger than me, but already he was starting to show his heritage. It was almost as if you could see his muscles developing day by day. We became reluctant allies after he "accidentally" slammed a door in my face, mistakenly thinking it was his father whom he'd argued with earlier in the day. I decked him.

"Watch what you're doing, ya fuckin' moron!" I screamed, reaching up with my now sore hand to hold my even sorer nose. When I pulled it away, it only made me angrier that I was bleeding. Moving my hand allowed me to see just who it was that had made me bleed. "Je-sus Christ! Randall Keith Orton!" Randy looked down from where he was also holding his nose and ineffectually tried to sneer at me. "Shut up, Molly Holly Flair!" No sooner had the words left his skinny little lips, then I socked him again, just to prove a point. I hated it when someone called me by my full name...it reminded me too much of the time I spent with my grandparents. I lightly fingered the quarter inch scar directly below my right eye and thought that I didn't need any more of a reminder than that. He looked up at me from where I'd knocked him on his ass.

"That's it you little bitc"

"RANDALL!" I whirled around to see Randy's father, filling the doorway with his imposing figure, hands on his hips with a scowl on his face. "Just what the hell do you think you're doin'? I raised you better than to speak to a lady that way!"

"Yeah, but SHE'S no lady, dad." Randy said, his eyes never leaving me, as though he were afraid I'd strike out at him again. Good thinking on his part if you asked me, because if given the chance, I'd have knocked him on his ass AGAIN for what he'd just said. Mr. Orton took a step towards both of us, glaring as he frowned at his son.

"Apologize, Randy." Randy finally looked up at his father and blinked in amazement.

"You CAN'T be serious, dad! Look at what she did to me!" he pointed to his bloody nose from the first punch and his rapidly swelling eye from the second. Mr. Orton took Randy's chin in his hand, turning his head from side to side. He looked over at me, but I refused to cower under his intense stare. A scowl darkend his features.

"Molly, did you do this?" I gulped, holding my chin up high and nodded. He shot me a grin.

"Have you ever considered becoming a professional boxer? Looks like you've got a helluva right hook!" Before I could stop myself a gusty sigh slipped out and a small grin found it's way to my lips. Randy simply stood there, dumbstruck. Which, I might add, is his normal look. He sputtered.

"You can't be serious, dad! She fuc" he stopped himself upon seeing the scowl returning to his dad's face. "She freakin' bloodied my nose!" Mr. Orton nodded. "And it looks like you bloodied hers too." He turned to me.

"He has a good point, Molly. Just what happened exactly?" I proceeded to tell him everything, from the time I started off down the hall in search of Stephanie, until that moment. He raised an eyebrow at his son, a look that would eventually become a trademark for a future superstar. "Is that what happened Randy?" The little twerp actually had the nerve to blush. He nodded his confirmation. Mr. Orton sighed and slung an arm around Randy's shoulders. "Well, I was coming here to tell you I'm sorry about yelling at you earlier, son..." As he continued with his little speech I started fidgeting, uncomfortable being present during such a private conversation. I inched my way toward the door, almost making it out before I felt the heavy hand of Randy's dad on my shoulder.

"However, I'm going to have to talk to your dad, Molly. You kids need to be punished." I shook his hand off my shoulder, indignant.

"Punished? All I did was defend myself!" But it was too late, because he'd already left to go find my dad, leaving me and the overgrown pimple in the same room. I flopped down on the couch with a huff,crossing my arms. I glared up at Randy. "This is all YOUR fault, ya know." I told him. He shrugged and grabbed a chair, turning it and straddling it to face me. He propped his head up on his hands on the back of the chair. He looked at me curiously, long enough that I started to feel uncomfortable again, a feeling I do not relish. I rolled my eyes and stuck out my tongue at him. I know, I know. Real mature for a seventeen year old, but this kid seemed to be bringing out the worst in me.

"Ya know, if you take a picture, it'll last longer AND I won't have to kill you." I said sweetly, allowing some of the coldness I was feeling to show in my eyes. He laughed and gestured toward me.

"I was just wondering how you're going to explain that swollen and bloody nose to your boyfriend." I looked at him, confused.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I don't HAVE a boyfriend." It was Randy's turn to roll his eyes.

"Puh-lease! Everyone knows that you and Shane O' Mac are an item!" I couldn't help it. My jawed dropped open and my eyes widened. In hindsight, I must've looked like an owl. Or a fish out of water.

"We are not! That's just gross!" I shuddered. "Shane's like a brother to me." Randy snickered.

"What, you open mouth kiss your 'brother'?"

"What in the hell are you talking about!" Randy waved dismissively.

"I've seen you two before, making out in the hallway." I thought back, trying to remember. I knew for a fact that I'd never kissed Shane other than on the cheek. Then it hit me. I couldn't help it: I started laughing. Randy's smirk turned into a frown.

"What's so funny?" I shook my head, not able to catch my breath and holding my sides I was laughing so hard. When my little fit had finally abated, I wiped my eyes and looked over at Randy.

"That wasn't Shane, dumbass. That was my ex-boyfriend, AJ !" I thought I might have imagined it, but for a split second there, I thought I'd seen a glimmer of relief in his eyes. But just as quickly as it appeared, it faded. He schooled his features into a nonchalant look.

"Whatever. The question remains, how are you gonna explain it?" I leaned back against the couch: I was wiped out. When I'd "run" into Randy I had been on my way to find Steph to see if she knew where I could find my dad. We'd been traveling for 8 weeks straight, I'd been fighting a cold the whole time and all I wanted to do was head to the hotel.

"What's it to you, Orton?" I muttered. I'd allowed my eyes to drift shut, not seeing him get up to come sit by me.

"I just like to know if I'm gonna have some guy come after me, that's all. So's I can be prepared." I jumped at the sound of his voice so close to me, and head butted him, my nose connecting firmly with his chin.

"Christ Jesus, Randy! What are doing! Trying to break it now?" I noticed a wet feeling on my face and groaned, reaching up to feel my nose and again coming away with a handful of blood. "Damnit, I'm bleeding again!" Before either one of us knew what was happening, Randy pulled off his shirt and held it to my nose, lightly pinching the bridge to stop the flow of blood that was making it's way down my face. Boy, was I glad that shirt covered my mouth, 'cause I'd have had some explaining to do if Randy had seen my jaw drop at the sight of his bare chest. He may have only been fifteen, but his body was well on it's way to muscled perfection.

I looked up to see an odd expression on Randy's face. He pulled away the shirt to wipe up some of the blood that reached my lips. I snaked my tongue out to taste the coppery flavor of the fluid. His eyes flickered there and we seemed to be drawn together, closer and closer, until I could feel his warm, sweet-smelling breath on my lips. Instinctively, my eyes fluttered closed.

"Molly! What's this I hear about you and Randy getting into it?" I swear to you, I've never jumped as far and as fast as I did when our fathers walked into the room. We separated quickly, but I knew by the little smirk on Randy's dad's face, that Mr. Orton was aware of what had been going on. He was the first one in the room, just a millisecond before my dad, but still enough time to allow us to move. He schooled his features and looked at Randy sternly.

"C'mon, son. Tell Mr. Flair what happened." So Randy began the story all over again, and to his credit not leaving out one single detail. Dad looked at me and all of the sudden it occured to me how old he looked, how tired. He rubbed one hand across his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose the way he does when he feels a headache coming on. Usually one that I cause.

"Molly, apologize to Randy." I looked at him, completely stunned. I may have been prepared to kiss the little turd a few minutes ago, but that didn't mean I owed him any sort of an apology!

"You've GOT to be kidding." I said, exasperated. My dad gave me that 'no nonsense' look and the vein in his forehead started to throb, so I knew he was reaching his limit on patience. I turned to Randy and stuck out my hand.

"Randy, I apologize for knocking you on your ass." I said through gritted teeth, but with a smile on my face. Mr. Orton burst out laughing at that. My dad glared at him, sending a silent communication that only dad's have. He stopped laughing, but allowed a smirk to remain in place. He looked over at his son.

"Don't you have something to say, Randy?" Randy looked every bit as reluctant as I was to apologize.

"Uh... apology accepted?" he asked, a little boy look coming across his face. My eyes narrowed. This little punk had better apologize to me or I was going to be forced to make his life pretty damn miserable. At the glare his dad sent him, Randy sighed heavily. "I apologize, Molly." We shook hands, quickly letting them drop to our sides.

"Come on, Molly", my dad said slinging an arm around my shoulders, my little altercation being forgotten in his mind. "We've got a week off, starting tonight." I forgot about the problem with Randy momentarily and looked up at my dad with a huge grin on my face.

"Does that mean we get to visit colleges?" I asked sweetly, giving him my best 'I'm-your-only-daughter-and-favorite-little-girl' look. he reached up again, pinching the bridge of his nose and I knew that I would eventually wear him down. As we walked out, I couldn't resist turning to look one last time at Randy. He was pulling on a different shirt, balling up the bloody one and putting it in his bag. Our gazes locked and a shiver went up my spine. Somehow I knew this thing between us wasn't over yet...it had only just begun.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

It seemed I couldn't get away from Randy after that. I had finally convinced my father to let me leave for college and we had gone all over looking for one that he thought was "suitable". We'd decided on New Mexico State University and I was going to have to book it if I wanted to get into classes for the fall. I only had two weeks to get all my transcripts transferred and boarding arrangements made. By the time I had taken care of everything I only had four days left to spend with my "family". The first of my last four days I'd gone to the weight room to do a little conditioning and who should be the first person I run into,quite literally, but Randy.

He reached out a hand to steady me. "Gonna make a habit of this, Flair?" I glowered at him and jerked my arm from his grip. Great. Just what I needed to end a perfect day. Dad and I had argued that morning about living arrangementshe wanted to buy me an apartment near campus, I wanted to live in a dorm. Now I know that sounds backward and believe me it was difficult enough trying to explain it to him. But the truth being told, I didn't want my dad to flaunt his money around and let it be known I was his daughter. That may sound ungrateful, but I was tired of living in his shadow and being thought of as a spoiled brat by outsiders to the business. You be amazed at how differently people treat you once they learn you're a "living legend" 's kid. We hadn't spoken all day and he'd left for his business dinner with Pat Patterson and Gerald Briscoe without telling me good-bye, a rarity for him. At the moment all I wanted to do was pump some iron and sweat out all my thoughts. Now I had Randy to deal with.

"IF you'll recall, Orton, it was YOU who caused the last incidentnot me." I said, turning to head over to the leg press. He followed and sat down on a nearby bench.

"Look, we got off on the wrong foot. Can't you just let bygones be bygones?" he queried. I gave him a bland look and started changing the weights. He sighed and stretched out on the bench, using his arms as a pillow. Despite my best efforts my eyes were drawn to the definition of the muscles in his torso and the golden hue of his skin. Mentally shaking myself I tried for an indifferent answer.

"Fine. I can handle that. Now will you please BE gone so that I can work out?" Randy lifted his head and gave me one of those cocky grins. God, those things were starting to infuriate me. Angrily I gave up on the leg press and stomped over to do a little bench pressing. I adjusted the weights to a fairly easy amount for me to lift and got situated on the bench.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you that you need a spotter for this sort of thing?" Randy's head appeared, upside down from mine. I growled and lifted up on the weights, just to spite him. The unexpected force I had to exude to lift them made me gasp and my arms tremble. I must have looked startled because Randy grinned. "And did I mention that the weights are labeled wrong? They're each off by AT LEAST twenty five pounds." I did a little quick mental arithemtic and concluded that I was lifting almost double what I normally max out at. Randy chuckled and turned to ready the leg press for himself. I was determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing me fail, so I pushed off from my chest, lifting the incredibly heavy weights.

I knew almost immediately that something was wrong. A liquid fire burning sensation shot through my left arm and before I could call out, it collapsed, bringing the weight crashing down on my chest. The clattering of the barbell must've startled Randy because before I could blink he was next to me, lifting the thing with ease and urging me to stay still. Hell, I didn't have ANY intention of moving for at least a week. My arm was screaming in pain and my chest felt like The Big Show had sat on it.Tossing the weights aside, Randy squatted down beside me, his hand hovering over me as though he WANTED to touch me, but didn't know where he COULD.

"Molly? Baby, are you alright?" Whoa. Hold the phone. Did he just call me BABY? I decided I must be in shock from the pain.

"Sure. Having your bicep torn and feeling like The Big Show sat on you is pretty normal for me." I replied sarcastically. One look at Randy's face though and I knew he was really worried about me. He was as pale as a ghost and he kept moving nervously.

"J-Just stay right there. I'll be ri" I held up my good hand to silence him. Struggling I managed to sit up.

"I'm alright, Randy. I just need to see one of the trainers or something." Randy shook his head firmly.

"Nu uh. You're going to the hospital." Without waiting for my reply OR opinion on the matter, he scooped me up, carrying me across the room and out into the parking lot. I glared up at him and would've smacked him upside the head, but my good arm was tucked firmly against the bare chest I had admired earlier, leaving only my injured arm free. Before I could say anything, however, I was deposited on the back of a motorcycle and was having a helmet shoved onto my skull. Pulling the chin strap firmly, Randy looked into my very-angry-but-with-excruciating-pain filled eyes. Taking my chin firmly in his hand he bent down and gave me a quick, hard kiss. "Don't move."

Like I could fucking go anywhere after that little shocker. The next thing I knew we were whizzing through the streets, looking for the nearest hospital. When we found one, Randy parked the bike and quickly got off, removing his helmet and mine. Why he insisted on carrying me into the Emergency Room, I'll never know. It wasn't like there was anything wrong with my legs, for God's sake. Rather than analyze it, I told myself it was because he wanted to impress any cute nurses that might be working.

It wasn't long after that I found myself in an examination room, Randy right by my side. While I'd filled out paperwork, he'd called my dad's cell phone, leaving a voice mail when he couldn't reach him. The doctor was a small, round woman who looked more like Mrs. Claus than a doctor. She was very patient and gentle and after she'd examined my arm, she turned to Randy.

"I'm going to have to have her chest X-rayed, dear. When that barbell dropped it could've bruised her lung or cracked a couple of ribs. I'll need you to leave the room for just a few minutes."

"But she's gonna be okay, right doc?" Randy asked, worrying his lower lip. He seemed a bit distorted to methe pain medication they had given me was starting to take effect. Mrs. Claus chuckled and patted his hand, where it clasped mine. Wonder when that happened, I thought drowsily.

"Certainly dear, certainly. Now you just go set outside in the waiting room and I'll have someone fetch you just as soon as we're done with the x-rays." I felt Randy give my hand a little squeeze and then he was gone. Mrs. Claus chuckled as she bustled about the room, readying things for the radiologist. "That's a very sweet young man you have there. He's quite smitten with you." I rolled my head to the side she was nearest. That was about all I could move. I wondered idley what it was they had given me and if it came in pill form.

"Oh 'es not m'boyfrind" I protested, my words slurring terribly. "We'fight altime." She smiled at me and patted my hand, much the same way she had Randy.

"That's normal in any relationship, dear."

I was too tired to argue with her. Whatever it was they had given me was some pretty powerful shit, because the next thing I knew I was waking up to see a pair of worry-filled blue eyes, identical to my own, anxiously searching my face.

"Molly baby...it's Daddy. Can you hear me sweetheart?" Groggily I forced my eyes open wider and struggled to push myself into an upright position. TWo sets of strong hands helped me sit up and I slowly turned to see who the other person was, even though I had a fairly good idea. I was slightly shocked to see Shane McMahon with my father, his warm brown eyes filled with curiosity. He reached over and took hold of the hand on my good arm and gently lifted it to his lips, placing a kiss there.

"Can't leave you alone for two hours, Flair and you're causing trouble" Shane joked, coaxing a small smile from my parched lips. It felt as though I'd swallowed a mouthful of cottonballs.

"Randy?" I managed to croak out. My dad pour a glass of water from the pitcher setting beside the bed and handed it to me. Shane seemed reluctant to let go of my good arm and took the water himself, placing the glass at my lips and allowing me to drink deeply.

"He's in the waiting room, Molls." Shane said, somewhat abruptly. Inwardly I sighed. Those two had yet to get along when they were in each other's company. Shane had always looked out for me, ever since we were kids and I knew that it just ate at him that Randy was the one to be there for me and not him. I looked my long-time friend dead in the eye.

"That'll be quite enough of that, Shane. " His eyes widend in surprise and his jaw fell open. I continued before he could say a word. "Randy may be a pain in the ass sometimes, and I may regret admitting to this later on, but I'm glad he was there to help me. He was a perfect gentleman and didn't leave my side until he HAD to. I don't know many fifteen year olds that are that responsible." I could tell my dad was trying not to laugh at the tongue lashing I was giving Shane. To tell the truth, I'd always sorta run roughshod over him and it seemed that today would be no different. Shane sighed heavily and sat on the edge of my bed, careful not to jostle me.

"Alright, Molls, whatever you say. I'll be civil to him...but ONLY for your sake." I smiled and patted him on the arm. I knew I could count on him to keep his word. I turned to my dad.

"Daddy, will you go ask Randy to come in here, please?" My father smiled and nodded, walking calmly from the room. Apparently he'd been unable to contain his laughter once he stepped out into the hall, because Shane and I heard a loud snicker come from right outside the door. I grinned and winked at Shane. The pain meds were wearing off and I was starting to lose some of the fogginess I'd felt upon waking. Unfortunately it also meant feeling the incredible pain in my arm and chest. I leaned back against my pillow and tried to take a deep breath. It hurt, but not terribly so I was pretty sure that my ribs weren't broken. Opening just one eye I looked up at Shane. "So, what's the verdict?"

Shane stood and made a big production of straightening out my bedsheet. Uh oh. He was avoiding the question. Damnit, that must mean something's really wrong. "Well, uh, see Molls...it's like this..." Right then dad and Randy came through the door and Shane was saved his explaintion of my condition. Actually, if I hadn't known any better, I'd have said he was almost GLAD to see Randy right at that moment.

He walked in, looking little worse for the wear. He immediately sat on the side of the bed and gently pushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. "Hey you." I grinned, grudgingly. I knew I'd just given Shane a lecture about being nice and I really DID appreciate everything Randy had done for me...but we still weren't what you'd call "friends".

"Hey yourself." I gestured towards the stargazer lillies he held in his hands. "Who're those for?" Randy blushed. He ACTUALLY blushed! Sometimes, when we were arguing, it was hard for me to remember that he was only fifteen...then he'd turn around and do something silly or stupid or sweet and sentimental and remind me. He sat the crystal vase down on the tiny bedside table.

"Well, I had bought them to try and convince Stephanie to go out with me..." The mischeivious twinkle in his eyes told me he was saying that just to get a rile out of Shane. I sat up straighter, trying to look indignant. Let Shane get a little hot under the collar...it had been far too long since I'd aggravated him anyway.

"You would DARE to bring me the flowers you bought for someone else?" A worried look crossed my dad's face and I knew that he wasn't quite sure if we were fooling around or not. I caught his eye, silently communicating to him that everything was fine. Shane on the other hand was fit to be tied.

"Orton, you've got one hell of a nerve coming in here like that..." Shane looked at me, but I was too busy glowering at Randy, or I might have seen what was coming. "And I don't give a damn if you ARE seven years younger than me, I'm gonna beat your sorry ass!" He lunged for Randy, just as my dad stepped in front of him, holding him back. Randy looked at me, allowing a bored look to school his features.

"Molly, do you want to call off your 'guard dog' now?" he asked, blandly. I started giggling and couldn't stop. Vaguely I wondered if acting like an assclown was a side effect of the medicine I'd been given. I hadn't even acted like a four year old when I WAS four...and here I was being childish and playing pranks on Shane.Shaen looked at me,confusion written all over his cute little face. I sighed.

"He's just yankin' your chain, Shane. He brought the flowers for me..." I looked at randy, suspicion on my face. "Right?" He laughed and sat down on my unoccupied side and touched my cheek. I shuddered lightly. I felt weird whenever he did that and I wasn't quite sure I liked it. I really looked at him then. His eyes seemed tired and for the first time he looked like the scared fifteen year old I knew he'd been bringing me here. I reached up, trapping his hand against my face with my own. "You okay?" I asked, searching his face. His chuckle sounded forced.

"Hey, I'm the one suppose to be askin' that, Flair." He sat up a bit straighter, as though he suddenly remembered the two other people in the room. "How ya feelin'?" I shrugged, the movement causing pain to shoot up my arm, making me wince.

"Like shit." Randy grinned, mischief lighting his eyes.

"Yeah, you look it too." I narrowed my eyes at him, angrily.

"Fu" My dad interrupted then, asking Randy what had happened and so forth. It turned out I'd only been in the ER for an hour and dad had only just gotten there, Shane trailing behind him, as I woke up. Up until they'd gotten there, Randy had stayed beside me. I smirked as I thought of his comment about looking like shit. THIS was ground I was used to and could handle. I started chuckled again and sucked in a short breath at the sharp pain that went through my chest. Dad glanced over, worriedly.

"Hun? You okay? Should I get the nurse?" I shook my head and took a couple of shallow breaths. That seemed to help. I looked over at Shane, who was trying at all costs to avoid looking me in the eye. I looked at him suspiciously.

"Shane..." He looked over my right shoulder, staring at my pillow instead of me. A fake smile was plastered on his face.

"Yeah?" he asked, just a little too cheerfully. I crooked my finger, motioning him closer. He leaned over me and I grabbed a fistful of shirt.

"You are going to tell me what the doctor's said was wrong and you're going to tell me NOW." I said sweetly, giving him a huge smile. He gulped and FINALLY looked me in the eye.

"Molls, I really think that's something you should..."

"Talk about with me." I let go of Shane and turned to see the ER doc, Mrs. Claus, standing in the doorway. She positively twinkled as she came in, introducing herself to my father and Shane.

"Hello. I'm Dr.Greig. I'm the attending physician this evening." She turned and looked at me, her face suddenly becoming stern. "Alright, young lady.You were VERY lucky that when you cracked those ribs you didn't puncture a lung. You should have had a spotter and this wouldn't have happened..." As she continued I looked over to Randy and saw the smirk on his face. I glared at him, letting him know that if he said a word, I'd strangle him dead.

"Here's the thing though...when we x-rayed your chest, we found something that worried us a bit." All eyes immediately turned to the doc, even Shane's. He'd been told that it was sever, but not HOW severe.

"Do you have chronic back pain, Molly?" Dr. Greig asked me. I thought about it.

"Yeah, normally when I get up, my back's sore. And when I go to the gym sometimes it bothers me. But other than that..." She looked at me, all traces of cheerfulness gone.

"Molly, I'm not going to beat around the bush. When we x-rayed you chest we saw a mass on one of your vertebrae. While you were still sedated, we did another spinal x-ray." She took a deep breath. It seemed to me like she really didn't want to be telling me this...which just really did NOTHING to calm MY nerves. "There's a tumor on your spine Molly, compromising one of your discs." My dad and Shaen immediately starting asking all sorts of questions, firing them off as quickly as the doctor could answer them. I suppose I must have been in some sort of daze because I really don't remember too much after she said "tumor". Me? I had a tumor? I was only 17 for God's sake! I looked at her, careful to keep the fear out of my eyes.

"So, where do we go from here?" I asked calmly. There was no need to upset my dad anymore than he already was. His face had gone ashen, making him look older than I'd ever seen him before.

"Well, we need to perform a very delicate procedure to remove the mass. I say "delicate" because the way it's lying, if we are off by even a fraction of a millimeter, it's possible we'll hit the spinal cord making you paralyzed." I swallowed dryly. Looking up, I stared her straight in the eye.

"So what you're saying is that I may never walk again."


	3. Chapter Three Seven Years Later

A/N: Ooooooooookay. So I've had a total of ONE review HERE and one emailed to me. Now the one here was nice, but the emailed one was NOT. So, I'd REALLY like ya'll's opinion on whether or not I should continue with this story. And again, THANKS for taking the time to read it!

_Seven years later_

"Molly, do you have time to look over these spread sheets?" I glanced up to see Stephanie standing in front of my desk. I'd made my way through college, earning my BS in business with a minor in Economics. I'd always been good with numbers and Stephanie knew that: that was why nine times out of ten I was the one stuck with doing the number crunching.

"Sure, Steph. Just lay them down right here," I cleared off a corner of my overflowing desk to make room for the spreadsheets. With her usual charm and grace, she plopped them down, not bothering to pick up the other papers she'd knocked off in the process. I'm telling you, if I didn't love that girl I would've kicked her ass a long time ago! She made her way over to stand in front of my large office window. After I graduated college, Mr. McMahon had offered me a job at Titan Towers. The starting salary was phenomenal, plus I got to work in a business I'd been around my entire life. How could I say "No" to that!

Stephanie picked up the sweater I'd discarded this morning after discovering that the night janitor had set the thermostat to just below "Hotter than Hell". "Since when do you wear sweaters?" she asked, arching her perfectly shaped eyebrow. I sighed and rose from my desk, walking over and snatching the black cardigan from her fingers. I reminded myself that this was only my fourth week on the job and that I had yet to actually 'work' with her.

"Since your dad hired me and I have to look 'professional' now." I said. She grinned.

"You know dad wouldn't mind you dressing comfortably casual, Molly." I rolled my eyes. Yeah, sure. 'Comfortably casual' to Vincent Kennedy McMahon was a new Armani suit with the top button of the shirt undone. I looked Stephanie up and down. She was wearing one of her 'Power' outfits that Chris seemed to like. Chris being her fiance, Chris Jericho. At first her father had been furious that she was dating a wrestler. But after he'd seen them together, he'd relented and allowed them to date. Last year at Christmas, Chris had popped the question. Steph naturally said 'yes', and the two of them had been inseparable ever since. Being the boss' daughter, she could get away with wearing whatever she wanted, but chose to dress conservatively. Of course, it wouldn't matter if she were wearing a burlap sack, she'd still be gorgeous. The bitch.

"Was that all you needed Steph? I've got quite a bit of work to finish up before I can leave this evening." I placed one hand on the small of her back, pressing her towards the door. I really and truly loved the woman like she was my own sister, but she could talk the hind leg off a mule when she set her mind to it.

"Actually, dad's hired on some new talent and he wants you to show him the ropes...you know, make sure he's comfortable." I groaned. Why does he always do this to me? Because I'm a nice person and can't say no to anyone, I answered myself. Just my luck this new "talent" he'd hired would turn out to either be some snot-nosed brat that thinks he knows everything already, or some steroid-freak like Steiner, who thought he could get away with groping me whenever and WHEREever he liked. I smiled as I thought back to that day. Steiner had wound up in the hospital for two weeks while they did a testical retrieval operation. Funny thing, but I never had a problem out of him after that.

Crossing my arms I looked at Steph. She sounded just a little too perky...something was up. "Okay, Steph. When is this new talent suppose to be here?" Generally they gave me two or three days notice so that I could prepare things in advance. The fact that it was STEPHANIE bringing the news,well...it didn't bode well. Steph took her lower lip between her teeth, and refused to meet my gaze.

"Um...he's downstairs right now." My jaw dropped. I couldn't help it! She'd always been a procrastinator but NEVER this bad! I was cussing a blue streak as I went straight for my desk drawer, pulling out my purse and along with it my cosmetic bag. I quickly powdered my nose and rolled on my favorite lip gloss. I re-tied my hair, pulling the thick brown curls up off of my neck, and smoothed down the front of my pink and black slip dress. Grabbing my I.D. as I walked passed her I shot back over my shoulder, "As soon as I'm done with this guy, Steph, you and I are going to have a SERIOUS talk about your people skills!"

I took an elevator down to the lobby and paused, looking around. The only people I saw were Valerie, the desk lady and Harry, the doorman. I walked over to Harry. "Hi Harry! Have you seen anyone wandering around here looking lost?" I explained to him my situation and he chuckled.

"Yes ma'am. He just went into the lounge over there." I thanked him and made my way over to the glass door. I opened it, seeing someone sitting with their back to me, oblivious to everything around him. I made my way confidently over to stand in front of him. His head was down and I could see that he was reading Robert Heinlein's "Stranger In A Strange Land". Holy shit, that meant that the new guy had to have a least HALF a brain, which pretty much amazed me. I cleared my throat to get his attention and to start my speil.

"Hi, I"m Molly and I---" The air abruptly left my lungs when the man looked up into my eyes and I saw, for the first time in five years, Randy Orton. The same cocky grin, was spread across a face that impossibly had grown even MORE handsome. He stood up and I damn near fell over. Apparently the kid had been doing some conditioning since I'd been gone. He had muscles in places I didn't know you COULD have muscles! But those eyes...those were what had haunted me every night for the last seven years: what I had compared every man to and found them lacking. No wonder Steph waited until now to tell me, I thought dazedly. He towered over me, smiling as he held out his hand.

"It's good to see you again, Molly" Good Lord, that voice! Gone was the squeaky prepubescent voice of a fifteen year old boy and in it's place was the golden warmth of a man's. My mouth kept opening and closing. I didn't know what to say! It was as if I'd had a brain-fart of some sort that rendered me temporarily speechless. He laughed, and instead of shaking my hand, pulled me in for a huge hug. He still smelled the same after all these years and I drank in the scent like a starving woman. Get it together, Molly! I told myself. I pulled away, nervously smoothing a hand down the front of my dress. Randy's eyes followed my gesture and I blushed again. Damn. The precious few times in my life when I'd blushed, it seemed like it was always around him!

"You've filled out nicely. Still favoring the 'full-figured' look, are you?" Well, I knew not EVERYTHING could've changed. I gave him a bland look.

"Just as you're still favoring the 'I'm-a-complete-dick' attitude, Randy", I said sweetly. His sudden laughter startled me. I suppose I still expected him to try and deck me. He fell into step beside me as I started down the corridor. "So, why do I need to show YOU around? You're probably the only other person besides me and the McMahon's that grew up in this business." Randy shrugged, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

"I dunno. Vince offered me a job about a year ago, but I didn't feel like I was up to it yet. So I took a year just to train: you know, do conditioning, work on my in-ring persona and attitude...that sort of thing." We turned into a vacant office that I could use for more interview time for any questions Randy may have. Though I have to say, I was having a pretty hard time focusing on his words...I was too busy watching his mouth move...

"Molly? Are you okay?" I was snapped out of my thoughts by Randy's gentle shake of my shoulder. I eased away from him to stand behind the rooms only desk, clearing my throat.

"I'm fine, just got a bit...sidetracked is all. Now, let's get down to business." I gestured for him to take a seat as I sat down myself. I was gonna be okay. I could do this. I could get through this interview without ripping his clothes off...God, I sure hoped I could.


	4. Chapter Four

Time passed quickly and before I knew it two hours had flown by. After the inital shock of seeing Randy again, and filling him in on the ins and outs of the contract he'd be signing, we'd rehashed on people we knew in the business and what they were doing now. Randy leaned back in his chair and eyed my suit.

"So... I never expected YOU to become a pencil-pusher. What made you decide to go into business anyway?" I shrugged, picking at the hem of the dress that, after a month of wearing them day in and day out, I STILL wasn't used to. I hadn't told anyone the real reason behind my taking the job that Vince had offered. And the fact of the matter was that I sure as hell wasn't about to tell Randy Orton.

"What made you decide to become a wrestler?" I asked, turning the tables. Randy arched an eyebrow in my direction, perfectly aware of what I was trying to do, but answering the question none the less. He sent me that cocky grin and leaned his chair back, balancing on two legs.

"Family business, sweetheart. I'm carrying on the tradition of there being an Orton in the WWE." He shrugged and for the first time since we were kids, he seemed a little hesitant. "At least I know it's something I can do." I eyed him curiously. There was more to this story than he was letting on, but far be it from me to interfer in Randy Orton's life. Nevermind that he'd interferred in mine everyday for the last seven years. He didn't know that, and I sure wasn't going to tell him, either. He looked up at me then and gave me the first genuine smile of the meeting. "So now that the business is out of the way...how about a little pleasure?"

I almost wet myself. Good Christ, but that man had a way of saying things that would make a nun blush. I cleared my throat repeatedly and moved to stand up. Walking around the desk, I made my way over to the door and the relative safety of the hallway on the other side. "I'm sure that Mr. McMahon will have an escort waiting..." Randy reached out and snatched me around the waist as I passed. He stood abruptly, knocking over the chair he'd been in. Pulling me against him roughly, I instinctively braced myself by putting my hands against his chest...his very HARD chest. I gulped.

"I wasn't referring to that and you know it Molly." His eyes held a flame that I wasn't sure was real. It had been five years for God's sake and I was no one's play toy. Still...being in his arms again made it seem as though all those years had melted away and we were back to being teenagers. His lips descended, and already I could almost taste the sweet warmth of them. My eyes fluttered closed of their own accord and much to my chagrin my body seemed to melt within his arms. I felt his lips brush softly across the tip of my nose, my cheeks, my eyes, my chin...I was desperate to taste him by the time he finally started for my mouth.

"Molls! Molly? You in here sweetheart?" The sound of my father's voice made me jump as though I were 13 again and had been caught necking in the broom closet with Dwayne Johnson. I moved away and instinctively smoothed down the front of my dress and checked to make sure that my hair was in place. Randy stared at me as though he weren't quite sure what had just happened. Dad opened the door and poked his head through, mere nanoseconds after we stepped apart. "There you are! I've been looking all over fo--" He stopped and a wide smile spread across his face. "Randy Orton! How the hell have you been, son?" He stepped inside and clapped Randy on the shoulder, shaking his hand firmly. "How's you're old man? Haven't seen him for a while. Is he still working at the OVW recruiting center?"

While they talked and caught up with one another, I took the time to compose myself as best I could. What in the hell had I been about to do? I wasn't some seventeen year old kid anymore, with hormones raging like the Mississippi river, for god's sake! Dad turned and grinned at me, one arm still around Randy. "Good news pumpkin! Randy's agreed to have dinner with us tonight!" I smiled weakly at my father.

"That's, uh, great, dad." I looked at Randy. "Unfortunately I won't be able to join you. I've got three reports to finish before I can even THINK about leaving..." My father's grin widend and he chuckled.

"No problem, sweetheart. I talked to Vince earlier and he told me to let you know that he wouldn't be needing those until the end of next week." He winked at me. "That's what I was coming to find you about." My gaze shifted over to Randy and I knew by the smirk on his face that he knew I wasn't looking forward to this dinner. Unable to come up with another good excuse to bail out of the dinner date, I plastered a confident smile across my face.

"Well then. Just let me get my purse and I'll meet you gentleman out front in just a few minutes."

"I'll come with you, Molly", Randy said quickly, stepping over to my side. He took me by the elbow and led me out the door. "We'll meet you out front in five minutes, alright Ric?" I grimaced at Randy's familiar use of my father's name. Dad nodded and we separated in the hallway, him heading toward his office, Randy and I heading toward the elevator.

"Since when do you call my dad 'Ric', Orton?" I asked peevishly as he steered me into the elevator. We stepped inside, Randy pressing the button for my floor. He pressed me back against the rail and I could feel his breath ruffle the hair at my temple. I looked up into laughing blue eyes.

"Since he asked me to just now, Flair" he retorted, obviously happy with my current state of discomfort. I wiggled against him, but stopped at the sharp intake of breath I heard above me. "Molly", he groaned, leaning down to lay his forehead against mine. "Stop wiggling, damnit!" he said gruffly as I immediately stopped moving. I had a pretty good idea of why he wanted me to stop moving --- the evidence was currently pressing insistently against my stomach. A little of my former mischeif returning, I stretched my arms above my head and forced a loud yawn.

"Sorry, Randy" I said impishly, grinning at his obvious discomfort. I blinked innocently at him as he gave another groan as my body pressed even closer to his. "It's just that I've been sitting still ALL day and I needed to streeeeeeeeetch." I dragged the word out as I arched my back, thrusting my breasts forward and into his awaiting hands. Okay, now THAT I hadn't expected! My eyes widened and I looked down as Randy started to gently massage my aching breasts, teasing the nipples into tight little points. Before I could help it a gasp of pleasure had escaped my lips and Randy took the opportunity to finally, FINALLY kiss me.Without the first sign of softness, he slammed his lips down against mine, thrusting his tongue forward into my awaiting mouth. Was it possible that after five years he tasted even BETTER than before? Of course he'd probably kissed a lot of women in those last five years...

Those were the last coherent thoughts I remember as he ravaged my mouth with his tongue, teeth, and lips. His hands had found their way up to my neck and were now softly massaging my neck, his thumbs digging into my aching muscles.My body became lax and I felt as though my knees would go at any moment...

The loud ping of the elevator reaching our floor interrupted our little tryst. Randy stepped back slowly, raking one hand through his ruffled hair --- hair I vaguely remembered running my fingers through just seconds before. He reached for my hand and pulled me out into the corridor. "Which office is yours?" he asked tersely. I was confused as hell. He sounded pissed. I then wondered if he regretted kissing me in the first place. That was the only logical explanation in my mind. So it was going to be just like that, was it? He was going to kiss me and then leave me, just like he'd done five years ago. Well, I wasn't about to go through another five years of comparing every man I went out with to him. I jerked my hand from his grip and lifted my chin defiantly.

"I'm quite capable of finding my way to my own office, thank you Mr. Orton. Now, if you'll excuse me I need to call and tell my father I won't be accompanying you two gentleman to dinner, as I've come down with a most horrendous headache..." I didn't even get to finish my little improptu speech as we came upon my office and Randy shoved the door open, not bothering to turn on the light. It had grown late during our interviewing session and everyone else it seemed had left for the night. I glanced at the clock on the wall that was lit up from the streetlights below. After 6? Already? I didn't have but a moment to ponder this before Randy whirled around, pressing me back against the door.

"We're going to finish what we started, Molly. I don't leave anything half-done." Oh that did it...that REALLY did it. I shoved him away and rared back, putting all my weight into the punch I threw at him. I knew I'd never be able to reach up to hit his face and have enough force behind the punch to do anything, so I aimed for where it would hurt the most...his nuts. All of the air left his lungs in a loud WHOOSH and he doubled over, clutching himself and turning red in the face. He dropped to the floor, curling into a fetal position and I stood above him, my hands on my hips.

"You don't leave anything 'half-done'? That's some line of bullshit Randy Orton. What about seven years ago, hmmm? Those last three days I spent with you before I left for school? What was that then?" For good measure and to make a point I kicked him in the shin. "And what makes you think you can just man handle me and expect me to comply with your demands? You are out of your fucking mind if you think I'm going to be doing ANYTHING with you ANYTIME in the near future, Orton!" I stormed over to the window, looking out at the street below and seeing my dad walk out, chatting with the limo driver. I heard Randy get up off the floor, his breathing heavy. Turning, I saw him grip the chair in front of my desk for support as he rose.

"You better be damn glad that I don't hit women, Flair." he said. Hhhmmm...if I wasn't mistaken his voiced sounded just a bit higher than usual. "And what in the hell are you talking about, saying I left you seven years ago..." I wave his words away as I turned to grab my coat.

"Don't feed me that line of bullshit, Orton. You know what I'm talking about." Shrugging into my coat I turned back around to see that he was now standing gingerly behind the chair that had assisted him in rising. His face was slowly returning to a normal color and his breathing was evening out. His baby blues stared at me in bewilderment.

"What ARE you talking about Molly? If ANYone left it was you! You were the one who sent me that letter, telling me that you couldn't stand to say 'good-bye' in person." He slowly walked over to where I stood, my palms growing damp as he got closer and I could see the hurt in his eyes. "Do you have ANY idea what that did to me?" I smoothed out the front of my skirt, wiping away at imaginary wrinkles. I chuckled coldly.

"You were all of 15 Randy. Fifteen year olds go from one girl to the next without thinking twice." I walked around to my desk and unlocked the desk drawer where I kept my purse. I busied myself with unlocking it, to avoid eye contact with him. "Besides, it wasn't as if we were dating or anything, was it?" I retrieved my purse and shut the drawer, straightening to see that he had walked around to where I was and stood only a hair's breathe away from me. "I mean, you were right on Stephanie's heels before my plane ever landed."

A confused expression crossed his handsome features and for a split second I thought that maybe I'd been mistaken about some things. I should've known that wasn't the case! "Who told you that?" I laughed dryly as I turned, stepping around the opposite side of my desk. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate on this argument when all I wanted to do was go home and have a good cry.

"See? Even you can't deny it." I paused by the door and turned to watch him stare at me beneath heavily lidded eyes. "Do us BOTH a favor, Randy, and forget you ever knew me." I flung open the door and marched quickly to the stairwell. I wasn't about to take the chance of him catching up while I waited for the elevator. The echo of my heels tapping on the concrete stairs seemed to chant , "Stupid, stupid, stupid" the faster I went. Finally reaching the bottom I shoved open the exit door that led to the alleyway next to Titan Towers. I knew my dad was probably getting impatient and would be pissed if I didn't at least call and give a relatively good excuse as to why I had to skip out on dinner. It took a couple of seconds for me to find my cell, buried at the bottom of my bag. Flipping it open quickly, I hit speed dial.

"Flair."

"Hi, daddy. Listen, I've got a splitting headache...I'm just gonna go on home and go to bed." It wasn't a stretch to make my voice sound weary over the phone. I'd been running on empty for the past couple of weeks and I knew that it was catching up to me quick. "Take a raincheck on dinner?"

"Sure, baby. Are you going to be alright? You need anything?" Despite everything that had happened in the last few hours, I couldn't help but smile. My father was a living legend in the wrestling ring, aptly dubbed "The Dirtiest Player in the Game". But tell him his child is sick and he turns into a worried pile of mush.

"I'll be fine, pop, don't worry. You and," I almost choked on the name, "Randy go and have a good time." He urged me to get some rest, scolded me briefly for working too hard and finally hung up, with the strict instructions to call him if I needed anything. I leaned back against the brick wall and took a deep breath. I knew that if I didn't get home soon, the events of the day would catch up with me and I'd start bawling my eyes out. Gritting my teeth with determination, I made my way to the employee parking lot, turning off the alarm on my 1964 Mustang and climbing in quickly. "I need a beer." I muttered to myself as I started the classic car and the engine purred to life. It was gonna be a long night.


	5. Chapter 5

"Fuck."

As soon as I got home and saw that someone had left a message on my machine, I got this really disgusting feeling in the pit of my stomach. Ya know like when you've just eaten a chili cheese dog and now you're on the double ferris wheel at the fair? Yeah. That's the one. I dropped my purse on the table in the living room, bent over to scoop up my terrier Burlap and took a deep breath. Hesitantly I pressed that annoying flashing button.

BEEP

"Hey, Molls! I got that CD you wanted. It's behind the counter, so when you come to pick it up, be sure to tell Nathan that it's back there. Ciao, bella." The breath left my lungs in a rush as soon as I'd heard Julio's voice. I should've known it was nothing to worry about! I quickly scanned through the next three messages. There was one from Stephanie, reminding me about the report I needed to turn in next week, one from my best friend Nora saying that she'd call back later and one from my dad.

"Hi, pumpkin. Just wanted to leave you this message to call me if you need anything. Oh, and Randy said to tell you tha--" His voice abruptly ended, signaling the last of the messages. I cursed loudly and unplugged the phone from the wall. I was bound and determined that I wasn't going to have my nice relaxing bath interrupted by any unwanted phone calls.

I dropped Burlap to the ground and got a half-hearted growl from the old mutt. Unbuttoning my jacket as I went up the stairs I couldn't help but feel like I was missing something terribly important. I put it off to nerves, figuring my little run-in with Randy had left me somewhat jumpy. Okay, more than SOMEWHAT jumpy. Very jumpy. Oh hell, who was I kidding? The man had been playing havoc with my hormones for the last seven years!

Growling in frustration, I grabbed an old tank top and pair of shorts and headed into the bathroom adjacent to my bedroom. I'd bought my house as soon as I'd graduated from college, much to my father's dismay. I think he must've had some wild idea that I'd still live with him. But after having the luxury of freedom for the last few years, I knew that living with dad was going to be out of the question. I'd looked at several houses that were beautiful in their own right, but just not my style. Then, as soon as I saw this one, I knew, KNEW I'd found home.

It was a newly remodeled Victorian "monstrosity" as my father put it. The tall columns outside made me think of southern plantations and the wide mahogeny staircase in the front hall just screamed "Gone With The Wind." I'd modernized it somewhat, installing new kitchen equipment and a jacuzzi tub in the master bedroom, but aside from that, it had pretty much stayed the same.

As I ran the water for my bath and dropped in a few of the lavender fizzy tablets that Stephanie had gotten me the last time she went to Paris, my thoughts returned to Randy. God, but he'd filled out nice! He'd looked like a much buffer and bigger version of the boy I'd fallen in lo-- the boy I'd thought about often, I quickly corrected myself. While I stripped out of my suit, my mind wandered back to a time, nearly five years ago... the last time I'd seen Randy.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Flashback**_

I grunted as I pushed up on the 195lb.weight that skimmed my chest. Conditioning had NEVER been this intense before! But having your best friend call you and tell you that she'd gone out with the guy you'd privately considered "Yours" well...it made a girl want to do something strenuous. And since dad had already told me that if I rammed another car because the person in it "couldn't drive", or because I'd heard something I didn't like on my cellphone voicemail, he'd pull me out of school and make me go back on the road with him, I tended to take my frustrations out in the weight room. "My insurance DOES NOT cover PMS, Molly."

I finished my twelveth rep and sat up, burnt out for the day. I'd been working out since noon and it was already a little after 5 pm. Wiping my face with the driest end of my towel, I stood and stretched. Time to hit the showers and then get home as quickly as possible. I had a hot date with Ben & Jerry and a pint of Chunky Monkey. Grabbing my bag, I started off towards the shower when a voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Still working without a spotter, I see."

I froze. It couldn't be. I had JUST spoken to Steph that afternoon and she'd said that she had gone out with him the night before. That was a good 400 miles from my school, not that he'd have any reason to be here in the first place. I turned slowly and my breath caught in my throat. My God, how was it possible that he looked THAT good? His short brown hair was mussed, as though he'd been running his hands through it in an agitated fashion. The black polo shirt he wore brought out the intense blue of his gaze and set off the golden tan that touched his body. And what a body, too! Muscles. That's all I could think. Muscles. The sleeves of his shirt were tight around his biceps, as though they could barely restrain them. The material was stretched tight across a broad chest and tucked into the narrow waist of INCREDIBLY snug jeans. My god, he HAD to have spray painted them on. I swallowed hard and licked my lips, hoping I didn't look as hungry as I felt. But my mouth and lips had suddenly become dry and if I were to speak without making a fool of myself, I had to moisten them. I took a deep breath and tried to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"Still making obvious observations, I see."

Randy Orton laughed as he pushed off from the door frame he'd been leaning against. "Gee, I've missed you too, Flair." I arched an eyebrow in his driection, but didn't move from my spot. He stopped a mere inch from me, his smell intoxicating my senses until all I wanted to do was bury myself in his arms and kiss him for all he was worth. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his mouth as he spoke softly, reaching out to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. "REALLY missed you."

I laughed wryly and took a step away from the gentle brush of his fingertips. "So, lemme guess, you going out with Steph made you feel closer to me, is that it? I mean, she IS my best friend and all..." for a split second I thought I'd seen confusion flash in his eyes. But as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone to be replaced by that familiar and infuriating smirk.

"Jealous, Flair?"

I gave a very UN-ladylike snort and turned away, heading once again toward the showers. I should've known better than to think he'd ever meant anything by what he'd said to me those last few days before I'd left for college. And after all, it HAD been almost three years ago...

"You wish, Orton. Why don't you go on over to the Kappa Delta house, Randy? After all, those ARE the easiest girls on campus...right up your alley." The next thing I know, I'm being whirled around and pulled tight against the chest of one VERY pissed off man. Boy. Whatever the hell he was classified as now. I looked up into eyes clouded with fury. Damn, but he was getting me all hot and bothered with this whole take charge thing!

"Watch your mouth, little girl." I couldn't help it. I laughed at that one.

"Little girl?" I jerked out of his grasp, crossing my arms over my sweaty shirt. "If you'll remember, SWEETHEART, I'm older than you."

Randy's eyes clouded over and all of the sudden, I could've SWORN that the temperature in the room went up to over a hundred degrees.He snatched me to him again, this time, his grip punishing. "That may be SWEETHEART, but I don't take comments like that from anyone. Not my father, not my brother, not any of the guys...and I sure as HELL don't take them from you!" I had never seen Randy look as angry as he did right then. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just the slightest bit frightend of him at that moment. He must have been able to tell, because almost instantly his touch gentled on my arms and the hardness left his face. He sighed heavily and dragged me to him. I couldn't move, too shocked by his little outburst to really do anything.

"I'm sorry, Molly." His words snapped me out of my stupor and I shoved away from him, crossing my arms, once again over my chest.

"Just...go, Randy." I turned and started back toward the showers.

"Molly, wait, please." I stopped, but didn't turn around. It annoyed me to no end that I was starting to tear up and I refused to let him see me that way. I hadn't cried in front of him in the hospital two years ago and I wasn't about to start now. I heard him approach and stood there, stiff as a board. I'd be lying if I didn't say a BIG part of me wanted to do nothing more than throw myself in his arms. But, damnit, I was a Flair and pride was always in our way. A large warm hand took hold of my arm and turned me gently towards him. I looked up at him and all of my good intentions of not crying vanished. With a strangled sob, I jerked out of his grasp, horrified at what I thought was pity reflecting in his eyes.

"Do us BOTH a favor, Randy, and pretend this never happen." and without looking back I went into the women's lockeroom and bawled like a baby.


	7. Chapter 7

A sudden pounding on the front door shook me from my thoughts. I'd sunk down as far as I could in the tub, before leaning back my head and taking that little journey down memory lane.Now, as the water cooled and my hands were becoming pruny, I glanced at the clock on the far wall, surprised to see that an hour had passed. The pounding on the door continued,effectively pissing me off.

"ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! I'M COMING, DAMNIT!" I yelled as I jumped out of the tub and pulled the drain. I towled off quickly and threw on the clothes I had brought with me to change into. Whoever was at the door was an insistant little shit, I thought as I ran down the stairs. I threw open the door and almost fell over. Randy's hand was poised to knock again and as soon as I opened the door, it fell to his side. He looked down, almost shyly and stuck his hands in his pockets. Yeah, THAT really helped my train of thought! It drew my attention to his pants, a place that was definitely better off without my observation.

"What are YOU doing here?" I asked coldly.

"Why yes, I'd LOVE to come in, Molly, thanks for asking!" Randy pushed past me to the foyer. I grunted and swung the door shut, making sure to put a little more force than was necessary behind it. It was REALLY starting to get on my nerves the way he seemed to just waltz into my life whenever and WHEREver he felt like it. As he stood taking in vastness of my home, though, I couldn't help but look him over for what seemed like the millionth time that day. Would I EVER get tired of looking at the man?

"Nice place."

"Thanks". My arms wrapped themselves around my waist, a defesive gesture from my years living with my grandparents. I stared at him, waiting for an explanation as to why he was standing in my foyer. "Well?"

Randy turned around and the look on his face almost made me crumble. I'd seen this man angry, happy, cocky (which was more often than not), agitated...but I'd never seen him look sad. The pain that radiated from his gorgeous blue eyes seemed to pack a mean punch as I felt it hit me square in the gut. He ran a hand through his short dark hair, almost in a hestiant way. Well, that was new. "Look Molly, I really think we need to talk."

I decided to play it cool. The last thing I wanted to do was let on to Randy how much I'd been thinking about him these last few years. I snorted derisively. "Well, Randy, I really don't see any reason that we should." I didn't budge from my stance at the door. I could tell it was starting to get on his nerves, so I sent him a small smirk thinking that he'd take the hint and leave. "I said all I had to say this evening at the office. So, if you don't mind I have to get ready..."

His head jerked up at that comment and there was a fiery gleam in his eyes. "Get ready?" I rolled my eyes. I knew that he assumed I meant 'get ready' for a date, but far be it from me to correct his assumption. After all, you know what they say when you assume things.

"Are you deaf now too, Orton? Yes, I said 'get ready'." He took a step forward and before I could stop myself, I'd retreated a step, effectively backing myself up against the door.

"Going somewhere?" I swallowed...HARD. This was something I wasn't used to. I wasn't used to seeing jealousy on Randy Orton's face, much less directed at ME. I raised my head defiantly. He had no claim over me. There was absolutely no reason on earth I should back down from that gaze.

"As a matter of fact..."

DING DONG

"Saved by the bell, " I mutterd sarcastically. I turned to open it, hoping against hope it was Nora or Steph. Wouldn't ya know, it would HAVE to be Shane?

"Hiya, buttercup!" he grinned and swept me up in a great big hug. I could almost FEEL the anger coming off Randy in waves. So what? I thought to myself as I squealed when Shane picked me up to swing me back and forth in his arms, let him think what he wants.

"Shane! When did you get back?" I asked, happily taking his hand to draw him into the foyer. He'd left three weeks ago to attend a meeting for his father in Japan and must've JUST gotten back. He stepped inside, the smile slipping immediately into a frown upon seeing Randy there.

"Am I interrupting anything?" he asked, looking back and forth between Randy and me. I shook my head.

"No, actually Randy was just leaving, weren't you, Randy?" I asked, with barely controled steel in my voice. He arched a brow, as if to say,'This isn't over yet' and turned to hold out a hand to Shane.

"Not by a long shot. Hello, Shane. Good to see you again." Shane took the pro-offered hand warily. Instead of replying to Randy's obviously false comment, he dropped the younger man's hand and turned to me.

"Everything alright, Molls?" I nodded and took his arm, creating a united front, so to speak, against Randy. "I just dropped by to see if you wanted to grab a bite to eat and catch a movie..." I smiled broadly at Shane. I really was going to have to do something really nice for him one of these days...he was always getting my ass out of trouble.

"Sure! Just let me throw on some clothes..."

"What about your 'headache' Molly?"

Randy's quietly asked question caught me momentarily off guard. I smiled at the concerned look that crossed Shane's face and patted his arm reassuringly. "It's alright. I just had a little headache earlier, that's all." I turned to look at Randy, whose position by the door had yet to change. "I'm fine now."

He nodded and an odd look crossed his face before being replaced by one of those arrogant smirks. "Well, just stopped by for Ric to check on you." He glanced down at his watch. "I've gotta be going. I'm meeting Sasha in about half an hour." And with that he simply walked out, leaving me clinging to Shane's arm as if he were my lifeline. As soon as the door fell shut behind him, Shane slipped his arm from my grasp.

"Okay Molly. What the hell was HE doing here?"


	8. Chapter 8

I rubbed my face tiredly and turned to walk into my living room. I knew Shane would follow me; when he gets his teeth into something, he'd follow you to the gates of hell to find out what he wants.

With a heavy sigh I plopped down on my large, overstuffed sofa. Leaning my head back against the cushions I closed my eyes, hoping that Shane would take the hint and leave me alone for now. And of course, I had no such luck. He took the recliner across from me and assumed a pose that once upon a time, I'd deemed his "corporate" stance. I stuck my tongue out at him. I know, I know. Real mature, but sometimes Shane just bugged me.

"Spill it, Flair. What's going on?" I sighed again and leaned forward to push another pillow behind my back. It had been bothering me lately, but I didn't dare tell anyone. They'd make a fuss and whisk me off to the nearest hospital and the last thing I wanted was to be in THAT place again!

"Your dad just signed Randy. And your baby sister who I might add, is going to get her ass handed to her when I see her again, allowed ME the honor of going over his contract with him." A small smirk found it's way to Shane's lips and I just wanted to go over there and wipe it off...with my fist. I'm not normally a violent person, but seeing and being around Randy today had made my blood boil. In more ways than one. I grunted. "What's so funny?"

Shane flashed me that million dollar smile and leaned back in the recliner, getting comfortable. "You're still in lust after him, aren't you?" Note to self: NEVER go out drinking with Shane, I thought as I remembered my little drunken encounter a while back with my childhood friend. Jack Daniels and tequila make for a very loose tongue. I shot him an evil glare.

"'In Lust with!' That jerk?" I huffed, crossing my arms petulantly across my chest. "I wouldn't have sex with that man if we were the last two people on earth and God were counting on us to repopulate!"

Shane's snickers aggravated me even further. Well, I thought to myself. Payback's a bitch. I decided to let him have a little taste of his own medicine. I smiled and leaned forward. "Kinda like you and Lita, huh Shane-O?" Wham! His laughter stopped and a look of disgust crossed his handsome face.

"Funny, Flair. VERY funny." He stood up angrily. "Are you gonna set there all night gabbing or are we gonna go out?" I laughed inwardly at my small triumph. I'd gotten Shane off my back for the time being. Albeit, I was gonna have to listen to him extoll the "not-so-virtuous" Lita for the rest of the night, but so long as he didn't ask me any questions about Randy, I'd be fine.

"Let me go change and then I'll be ready." Jogging up the stairs, I wondered if maybe I'd gone too far with my little Lita comment. Shane had been infatuated with that slut from day one, despite my best efforts to hook him up with Abby, one of the make-up artists. Finally, after months of doing everything short of begging and pleading with her, Lita had finally said "yes" to Shane's request to take her to dinner. All night she'd done nothing but talk on her cell to different guys, even going so far as to have PHONE SEX with one of them! Shane, being the gentleman that he is, finsihed the meal and dropped her off, refusing her offer to come in for some "dessert". Ever since he'd turned her down, she'd been a total bitch to him at work, going out of her way to insult him whenever possible. He hadn't really dated anyone since, but I was slowly getting him warmed up to Abby. He'd asked about her several times over the past few weeks and I had yet to let her know. Abby had a HUGE crush on Shane and I wanted to let them both steam a little before hooking them up.

Smirking to myself, I rummaged around in my closet until I found something I deemed suitable: a well-worn pair of Levi's and a button up black shirt. I dressed quickly, leaving my hair in the ponytail I'd pulled it into earlier. I passed on the make-up: Shane would be in a hurry and really, I was just too lazy to put any on. Besides, I thought to myself bitterly as I made my way down the stairs, it's not like I have anyone to impress. Shane turned from his stance at my stereo and grinned.

"'Bout time." I just smiled, flipping him the bird and grabbing my purse. I was ready to get Randy Orton off my mind. And spending time in the company of my 'big brother' was just the way to do it.


	9. Chapter 9

The next day went by quickly and I saw niether hide nor hair of Randy. I figured I'd gotten off easy, to be honest with you. By the time I'd done all my daily paperwork, had a conference with the creative team and convinced Stephanie that she should pick out whatever invites SHE liked, not her mother, I was more than ready to call it a day.

As I was filing the last of my invoices, my phone rang. I groaned. All I needed was another "favor" being asked of me from Steph and I really didn't wanna answer it, but figured I might as well. Sighing heavily and plopping down in my desk chair I picked up my cordless, forcing a cheerful note into my voice.

"Molly Flair, how can I help you?"

"Well, now, isn't THAT a loaded question!" I laughed at the sound of Shane's voice on the other end of the line. We'd had a fun time the night before. Almost as soon as we'd left the house, it was an unspoken agreement between the two of us that nothing be said about Randy or Lita. We'd watched some cheesy "B" movie playing at one of the old movie houses downtown and sat at the Waffle House until 1am catching up and talking about the business.

"Only to a perv like you, Shane" I grinned and spun my chair around to look out the window. The day had been gorgeous, if slightly chilly. Spring was just around the corner and it was my favorite time of year.

He laughed and I could almost picture him smirking and leaning back in his chair, almost the same way I was doing, except in a much bigger office up three stories. "So, you busy tonight? Dad's coerced me into going to one of his cocktail parties and I need a date."

I laughed and leaned my head back against the chair. It really was too bad I couldn't feel something for Shane like I did with Randy. Just the thought of his name brought a frown to my features. I closed my eyes and heard my office door open quietly behind me. Figuring it was Steph back to ask another question about invites, I held up a finger over my shoulder to indicate I'd only be another minute. "Tell me something I DON'T know." I laughed. "What you need..." I purred seductively, falling into one of our old games, "... is to get laid."

The rumbling laughter was a soothing balm to my ears. "And lemme guess...you know just the person to fix that little problem for me, right?"

I smirked, whirling around in my chair, a mental picture of Abby coming to mind. "Oh, I THINK I know of someone who could help in that depar ---" My thoughts, my words, my heart came to a screeching halt when I saw the furious expression in Randy's eyes. He stood, leaning casually against the door. His face was cool and collected, but his eyes were hellfire and brimstone. I cleared my throat and wiped all traces of an expression from my face. "Listen, I've gotta go. There's... someone here to see me."

"So are you game? I'll pick you up at 8?" I couldn't help but smile at the change of tone in Shane's voice. It had taken on that "lost little boy" quality he uses to get me to do something.

"Yeah, sure. I'll see ya at 8."

"Okay. _Ciao bella mia._"

"_Ciao caro mio."_ I hung up the phone and looked up into eyes like the sea during a storm. I let a bored expression cross my face, as I took in his appearance. Wouldn't do to let him know that just looking at him made my mouth water, now would it? "Can I help you Mr. Orton?"

"Who were you on the phone with?"

I blinked. Just who the hell did he think he was? I stood, shoving back my chair. "I don't see where that's any of your damn business." I said coldly, stepping around the side of my desk, so that at least I was no longer straining to look up at him. "Now why are you here?"

He pushed off from the doorway and walked stealthily towards me, like a panther stalking his prey. Stopping just an inch shy of my chest, he reached out a hand to softly run a finger down my cheek. "Hey now, is that any way to talk to an old friend?" he asked a small smile on his face. I gave a very unladylike snort and shoved him away, stepping around him to get my coat off the back of my chair.

"I'm not sure, but when I see an old friend, I'll let you know." Checking to make sure that my car keys were in the pocket, I shrugged into my coat and turned to leave. "Look, Randy, if this isn't something important, I've gotta go. I've gotta find a dress for tonight." Again, a cold look came and went in his eyes so quickly that I wasn't even sure I'd seen it to begin with. He folded his arms across his chest, not moving.

"What for?" I blinked, somewhat startled by his bluntness. Usually Randy was the smooth talker...the suave and sophisticated one. I'd never seen him act this...well, possessive. I'd be lying if I said that his whole demeanor wasn't something of a turn on for me: I'd always had a "thing" for guys like that. I sighed and ran a hand through my tangled hair. At some point today it had come loose from it's usual french twist and I had been too busy to do much of anything other than yank the clip out and let it fall to my shoulders. Now I wished I'd taken the time to at LEAST run a brush through it.

"Like I said, I don't see whe--"

"What. For." The force behind those words had me gaping at the furious man before me. Okay, now this was starting to scare me a little. I tried to play it off.

"God! If you MUST know, that was Shane." I pretended to fumble through my purse for something, so that I wouldn't have to look him in the eye. "Vince is giving a party tonight and Shane wants me to go with him." I looked up to see a frown marring his handsome features and an inexplicable anger came over me. Just why did I feel the need to justify my actions to him? I found myself reciprocating the frown and heading for the door. "Now, if you'll excuse me..."

Before I knew it, he'd reached out and whirled me around, bringing my body flush against his. The gasp of air that had left my lips at the suddeness of the movement was lost as hungry lips conquered my own. I stood rigid for only a moment before the harshness of his kiss turned gentle, almost teasing. Randy's tongue trace the seam of my lips, asking entry and before I realized it, I had complied, giving him access to the place he seemed desperate to be. My arms seemed to lift of their own accord and I ran my fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his neck. His hands contracted around my waist and he imperceptively deepend the kiss. His palms lowered to cup my backside and the next thing I knew I was being lifted and carried over to the leather couch that came standard in all of the offices at Titan Towers.

His lips never left mine as he placed me, almost reverantly, on the plush sofa and lifted slightly to remove his suit jacket. Blindly I ran my hands over the broadness of his shoulders and chest. God, how many times had I dreamed of this over the past five years? He felt like nothing I'd ever known before and the sweetness of his lips made me feel as though I could continue kissing him forever. I had completely forgotten the reason I should've been angry with him as my hands streaked across his torso.

I felt his hands at the top button of my blouse and let out a low groan. Were his hands SHAKING? My eyes fluttered open as he pulled away from our kiss and stared down at me, breathing heavily.

"No one touches you but me."

As soon as his voice broke into my fuzzy thoughts, reality set in. I shoved him back, apparently taking him by surprise cause he landed with a THUMP in the floor below me. I struggled to regain my compaure, not to mention my clothes. I furiously buttoned up my blouse, angry more at myself for letting this happen, than anything.

"Excuse me? You don't have any RIGHTS to me whatsoever!" I smoothed down the front of my skirt where it had ridden up during our heated moment and stood, for once having to look down at him. "I belong to NO ONE." I quickly walked over to the door, not giving Randy time to follow. "Let's just forget this. Forget it all."

I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me until I'd gotten in the elevator and was almost to the lobby: I was hurt. Me! Molly Holly Flair! I'd allowed Randy to sneak past my barricades and once again hurt my feelings like no one else had ever been able to do. What was coming to be the familiar wetness of tears trailed down my cheeks and I wiped at them angrily. Enough was enough. I was sick and fucking tired of letting Randy get to me like he was. From now on, I thought as I headed toward the employee parking lot, I would treat Randy like any other superstar...as a fellow employee. Nothing more.


	10. Chapter 10

I glanced at the delicate diamond watch that my father had given me the previous Christmas for what seemed like the millionth time that evening. Vince was a great guy, a true gentleman...but his parties always sucked.

The majority of the people that were there had passed the half century mark years ago and the rest of them were hot on thier heels. Shane, Steph, Chris, a few other superstars and their dates and myself were the only people under 35 in the room. I felt a light touch on my arm and turned to see Shane smiling tightly at me. Uh oh. I knew that look...it usually meant that we were about to see or hear a McMahon family rumble.

"Okay, so what is it this time?" I asked, taking his now outstretched arm and heading in the direction of the bar. As we sat down I ordered my fifth margarita of the evening. I ignored the raised eyebrow that Shane shot at me as I ordered my drink. He didn't have one Randy Orton lurking in the shadows of his mind, now did he? Shane ordered himself a gin and tonic, turning to lean against the bar.

"Dad wants me to go to Japan."

I shrugged. "So? It's not like you've never been before." I took a sip of the drink as the bartender sat it in front of me. The brief pause that Shane gave before answering me kinda gave away that it wasn't the same thing as usual.

"For the next six months."

Slowly I sat the glass down on the counter. I turned to look at him, not quite believing what he'd said. "Six months?" My thoughts were going a thousand miles an hour. He couldn't go away for six months! Who would listen to me piss and moan about Randy? He nodded and took a long drink from the glass the waiter had placed at his elbow.

"I'd leave next week." His eyes took on a glassy stare as he looked off into space. I reached out to place a hand gingerly on his sleeve.

"Are you okay?" He looked at me then, with such sad eyes it almost broke my heart.

"Yeah. I guess it's just..." He ran a hand agitatedly through his dark hair. He looked around wildly, as if the room were suddenly too crowded for him. "Look...let's get outta here, okay?" I nodded and we rose, quickly making our way to the cloak room to retrieve my wrap for the evening. We were heading out the door, Shane talking quietly, trying to fill me in all that was happening when I heard that unmistakeable voice behind me.

"Flair."

I turned to see Randy standing there, a drop-dead gorgeous blonde bombshell on his arm. What there actually was of her dress was a bright pink, almost painful to look at in it's intensity. Randy had that old familiar smirk on his face, but something different behind his eyes. If I wasn't mistaken it looked an awful lot like jealousy. He reached up to pick an imaginary piece of lint from the arm of his impeccable tuxedo. And damn, could that man fill out a tuxedo.

"Off already? Is the party that boring, or are you just in a hurry to get home to..._other_ activities?"

I felt Shane tense beside me and gently lay my hand on the arm that was clenched by his side. Turning to Randy I said calmly, "The buffett is to your left and our fathers are to the right. Enjoy yourself, Randy" and with that Shane sneered at him and took off for the elevators, me close at his heels.

"Really, Molls, I just can NOT imagine what you see in him!" Shane grumbled as we stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the parking garage. I leaned back against the coolness of the stainless steel walls and sighed heavily. The evening had been going fairly calmly and then Randy just HAD to go and show up. Little fucker, I thought as I opened my eyes to see Shane staring moodily at the floor. Biting back the sigh that was making its way to my mouth, I reached out and lightly touched Shane's arm.

"C'mon, Shane... it can't be that bad."

The look he gave me right then was enough to make me doubt that statement. He looked like he did the summer we found out that it really wasn't a good idea to feed your pet bird alka seltzer for an upset stomach.

Shane leaned against the wall of the elevator next to me. "Dad's got this bright idea to buy one of the Japanese wreslting operations. He thinks it'd be a good idea to expand our product to other countries." I nodded, encouraging him to continue. "The problem is that the one he's looking at insists that some things remain unchanged within their company. So dad's agreed to a sort of trial run... with me being the one to go and 'learn the ropes' so to speak." He sighed heavily again, letting his head drop back to rest on the wall. "Six months, Molls. Six months in Japan with no one to talk to, hang out with...just...no one."

God, I hated seeing him like this. As much as I like to bitch and groan about him, Shane is the closest thing I've ever had to a brother and knowing that he'd be all alone in a strange country for six months was almost more than I could handle. Naturally I couldn't tell HIM that, but once again, my mouth ran away before my head could catch up with it.

"I'll go with you."


End file.
